


Farm Life

by AmyriadfthINGs



Category: Alles was zählt
Genre: AU, M/M, fic or die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 14:38:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1944918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmyriadfthINGs/pseuds/AmyriadfthINGs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Our two favorite ex-thieves together on a farm in France.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Farm Life

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the fic or die challenge and some majorly helpful betaing by Mel, this little thing actually sees the light of the (summer) day. Yay!

Fragrant summer air enveloped Marian as he woke.

They didn´t bother closing the windows anymore. He and Etienne quickly learned that the sweet lavender-scented breeze of the region was a special treat to be enjoyed in the cool blue of the night, or on early mornings before the world and the heat had woken up.

Although, if Marian were being honest, not much of the world reached them in their small white farmhouse. The only village around was far enough away to give them a sense of isolation and freedom.

He left the bedroom door open to let air into the rest of the house. With its low ceilings and stone walls it reminded Marian of a charming cave. He moved around the stone-tiled kitchen with an easy, absentminded familiarity that let him focus on the tranquility of the awakening day.

Etienne was nowhere to be seen. His side of the bed had been empty and cold when Marian had woken up, but it didn´t worry him. Etienne did that sometimes; vanishing during the night, catching a moment to slip out unnoticed. Marian thought he did it for old times´ sake, consciously or not. Etienne hadn´t shared any concrete reason for his disappearances with him. 

He always showed up again sometime during morning, silent as a cat, dropping a quick kiss on Marian´s lips and stealing a sip of his coffee. Marian usually rolled his eyes at Etienne or pinned him with a glare from under a quirked eyebrow, but more often than not, he would just pour a second cup and snatch up the newspaper that appeared with the man.

He´d sit down at the sturdy wooden kitchen table with it and try to focus on the French text in spite of how rusty he´d become in their years apart, but it never lasted long. Etienne would step up behind him and run a hand across his chest, maybe scratch it lightly, and whisper something in his ear such as: "You can read that in the garden, Yeddin."

Then he would turn around to leave and let his fingers linger on the back of Marian´s neck just a tad too long.

Marian smirked as he thought of what always happened next.

He wouldn´t admit it, but they both knew that for the next seconds his pride would take over. He would keep a straight face and his eyes trained onto the page. He´d stay glued to his seat until he could hear the hinges of the old kitchen door squeak and Etienne´s footsteps on the stone path leading into the garden. Only then would he get up.

The press of a smooth palm to his neck brought him back to the present.

“Coffee, _chéri_?” Etienne asked as he snaked an arm around Marian´s middle. He placed a cool kiss behind Marian´s ear and stepped close. A lesser man would have been distracted, but Marian swiftly evaded Etienne´s other hand, which was going for the coffee, and turned around easily with both cups in his hands.

A spark danced in Etienne´s eyes. Marian all but purred: “Why don´t we go outside? I hope you didn´t forget my newspaper.”

Etienne laughed soundlessly. “I plan on reading it to you, Yeddin, _d´accord_?”

“ _Mais oui_ , that’s my favorite way of getting the news anyway,” Marian replied, “It adds the thrill of not knowing what´s true and what isn´t.”

Etienne tugged at Marian´s belt. “Admit that you like it.” 

Marian huffed. “I think I just did. Maybe you should admit that you steal the newspaper from some poor villager every morning?” 

They reached the door and stepped outside. Etienne kept his face blank.

“Actually, is that why you want to read it to me?” Marian continued the issue. “Are they reporting on serial newspaper theft in the region?”

The weather-worn kitchen door flapped shut behind them. “I´ll show you newspaper theft, _Schatz_!” Etienne danced out of reach waving the paper around exaggeratedly, but Marian glared only half-heartedly at the antics. Instead he took in the different shades of green that surrounded their house and promised a cool respite from the heat.

The garden consisted of uncut grass, a few shrubs to one side and two tall trees in the back. So far they had only added a hammock that was big enough for two. Etienne had brought it home one day and tied it between the two knobby old oaks. It was as if the trees had been planted solely for that purpose. This was where Etienne´s dance with the paper had taken him now. 

A pair of bees had already taken up the duty of buzzing, seeming in discord with the morning peace. Later, the sounds would come together and the early intruders would blend in.

Maybe they should start making their own honey? Marian snorted at his own thought. “Tell me, when exactly did I become so domestic?” He walked up to the hammock, put the cups down on the table next to it and was met with a curious look from a languidly stretched out Etienne.

“You? I think we´ve both become sickeningly domestic, actually. Any particular atrocity you have in mind?” Etienne put his hands behind his head and spread his legs, bending one to make space for Marian.

“I was just thinking that we could make our own honey,” Marian replied.

A choked off snort was the answer, followed by “Oh honey…” and a sweetly mocking smile. This time Marian did glare, but he climbed into the hammock nonetheless, opposite Etienne.

They fell silent, waiting for the rocking motion to die down until it was a gentle sway. Marian watched the shadows of the leaves dance on Etienne´s face and chest where it was bare under his half-buttoned shirt. 

Not for the first time did he reel from the normalcy of it all. 

There were moments, sometimes, when his peace and quiet was suddenly rattled. He could only compare that feeling to having a dream and becoming suddenly aware that you are dreaming. His world would shake around the edges. His next breath would be too deep too fast and end up being painful, as if he´d forgotten to breathe before. Remembering to breathe again made it even scarier in hindsight.

This moment wasn´t quite like that. Etienne was idly running his fingertips along Marian´s calf, apparently deeply immersed in the finance section of the paper.

“If it makes you feel better, we could always use our honey-making business as a front,” he said without looking up. Ok, maybe not so deeply immersed.

Marian smiled and leaned back. He closed his eyes. “Will you ever tell me what you´re getting up to when you sneak out under cover of darkness?”

Etienne´s fingertips stopped their motion for a split second, only to stroke lower and circle around his ankle, where they came to rest.

Marian kept his eyes closed. He didn´t really expect an answer.

He felt a brief squeeze from Etienne´s fingers and heard barely suppressed glee in his voice when he finally answered: “Oh, the chances of that are growing daily.”

Marian opened one eye and squinted at Etienne, an eyebrow raised in question. He knew that particular upward twitch of Etienne´s lips. He had known it intimately for a long time.

He took a deep breath and shifted his right leg so that it pressed up against Etienne´s left. 

Etienne´s smile turned soft, almost as if he knew that Marian´s world had just snapped back into place. Things were right again. Marian felt as relaxed as could be. 

The bees´ buzzing became perfectly harmonized with the rest of the background noise. The hammock swayed gently back and forth. The air tasted like lavender. It couldn´t have been a more peaceful summer day. 

Marian didn´t see Etienne smile at him knowingly.


End file.
